


Fine By Me

by heyloreylo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Smut, Teasing, its gonna be good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 16:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16067177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyloreylo/pseuds/heyloreylo
Summary: Ben Solo never expected to find love in a sweltering waiting room, after his car broke down. Rey always thought she'd spend the rest of her life alone, working for an odious man.Some misunderstandings, tons of fluff, slight slow burn, leading to a full on blaze.





	Fine By Me

It had to happen today. Of all days.

His car had finally given up the ghost and come to a shuddering stop in the middle of the road. Cursing his bad luck, Ben now found himself sitting in the overly hot waiting room of the closest mechanic. 

The tow truck driver had just dropped him off without so much as a wave goodbye. There was a fat, old man sitting behind the service counter, eyes glazed over as a soap opera played on the 90s tv hanging in the corner. An overhead fan futilely circulated the muggy air. 

Through the windows, Ben could see into the bay, where his car was up on a hydrolift. Leaning forward onto his knees, jiggling anxiously, he rubbed his eyes. 

“Solo?”

He looked up.

Immediately his heart stuttered to a halt, then ramped up double time. 

Before him stood the cutest fucking girl he’d seen in years. Her brown hair was pulled back into three buns, all in a row, wisps of hair having escaped to frame her face. Her freckled face with dirt and smears of grease on it. She wore a pair of overalls, the arms tied around her waist, leaving her upper body bare but for a dirtied, white tank. Slim, but fit, she was no curvaceous bombshell, but as his gaze took her in from toe to head, he thought she was pretty damn near perfect. 

“Solo?” She repeated strongly. 

Flushing bright red, Ben jumped to his feet and tried to cover his blatant ogling. “Yes, yes that’s me.”

Standing, their height difference was more than obvious, and he noticed her eyes, hazel, widen as she tilted her head to look up at him. “Come on,” she bit her lip and nodded her head toward the employee entrance to the bay, leading him into the back and around tables and shelves of tools and parts toward his car.

“So,” she started, holding the clipboard against her stomach. “We got it back up and running. But-”

Here it comes.

“It really should be taken better care of,” she admonished, shooting him a glare. He knew it well. Every mechanic had given him the same look when they’d looked it over. The problem wasn’t him, it was the dumb car. It was so old, a relic some would say, that most general mechanics didn’t have the know-how to fix it. Just got it running again and he moved on to the next.

“I know,” he snapped, knowing it wasn’t her fault, but annoyed by the whole fucking day and he didn’t need this little spitfire mechanic condescending to him. “Just tell me what I owe you and I’ll be on my way.”

Her eyebrows practically merged into one as she frowned at him. “Hey, I’m just telling you the facts. If you want to keep driving it for more than a couple more weeks, maybe don’t run it into the ground,” she pointed at the car, then jabbed her grease-marked finger at his chest. He blinked, momentarily thrown by her British accent out here in the boonies of Texas.

She rolled her eyes and stalked back to the waiting room, clearly expecting him to follow. His eyes did, at least, eyeing her retreating ass. 

_ Come on, Solo! Don’t be a pervert.  _ He scowled at himself and curled his shoulders in on himself, knowing he’d been a bit of a prick to the mechanic who had saved his pathetic ass. 

“Mr. Solo is all set, Plutt,” she was saying, handing the clipboard to the overweight lump of a man behind the counter. 

“Did you check his transmission, scavenger?” The greasy old man scanned the sheet, then glared at the girl. Her cheeks burned crimson beneath the sweat and grease. 

“Yes, sir,” she bit out through clenched teeth. “And it’s  _ Rey _ .”

Plutt snorted and jabbed at the keyboard. “Bring his car around,  _ Rey _ .” But the way he said it made it seem almost like a curse. Ben’s stomach turned at how blatantly the man mistreated his employee, his fellow human being! 

Rey’s nostrils flared and her lips thinned, but she was clearly biting her tongue. She whirled about and stormed into the bay. Ben heard his rattling engine roar to life and she pulled the car out and around.

“Cash or card?” Plutt snapped, bringing Ben’s attention back to the odious man. 

Yanking out his wallet, Ben pulled out enough bills to cover the cost of the repairs, plus some. “Give the extra to the mechanic, for her trouble,” he instructed. Plutt eyed the bills greedily and reached for them, but Ben held them just out of reach. “And she  _ will  _ get it, am I understood?”

Plutt looked like he might be sick. Clearly he was used to steamrolling over everyone to get his way. But he managed to spit out a garbled, “Fine.”

Ben slapped the cash into Plutt’s greasy hand just as the front door bell jingled announcing Rey’s entrance.

“Your keys,” she tossed them out at him and he barely managed to catch them against his chest before she left for the bay.

“Thank you, Rey,” he called after her, just before the door shut. She paused and glanced back at him through the windows, then disappeared into the back.

***  
  


“I still don’t know why you drive that thing,” Poe was a nosy little shit. But Ben loved him, as much as one could love the roommate that never seemed to leave. He even had an apartment in downtown, but somehow the curly-haired ingrate managed to spend more time at Ben’s home than his own.

“It’s...sentimental.” That’s all Ben would say about it. Poe wouldn’t understand. Nobody did.

Poe took a drink and winked. “Whatever you say, Bambi.”

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled and dropped onto the couch, propping his long legs onto the coffee table. 

Poe pouted sympathetically from the kitchen and tossed him a soda from the fridge. “So, how did the interview go?”

Ben popped the tab and guzzled half the can in one go. “Didn't make it,” he said and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “They rescheduled me for Friday, but that's going to reflect badly on me to start with.”

Poe jumped over the back of the couch and Ben cursed, holding his can high. “Jeez, Poe, ruin your own couch.”

His friend snickered and leaned back into the plush cushions. “They'd be thick not to hire you. Best damn TA the university ever had, they should be fighting to keep you.”

“TA-ing is a far cry from actually teaching, birdbrain.”

Poe just shrugged and flicked on the tv. “I stand by what I said.”

Ben rolled his eyes, but smiled before taking another sip.   
  


***

Later that night, laying in bed, his thoughts drifted to the mechanic.  _ Rey _ . 

He’d never met anyone like her. Apart from his mother, all the women in his life were overly fake, batting their eyes at him or ignoring him as if he were invisible, their faces mucked with paint, not an ounce of sincerity in their sugary-sweet voices. 

But Rey...she was like a breath of fresh air. 

He hadn’t felt that magnetic pull of attraction in a long time. And not ever so strongly. 

Beneath the covers, his cock shifted.  _ Down, boy. _

He wasn’t that kind of guy. The kind who jerks off to random women, obsessing over hazel eyes and a freckled face. Absolutely not.

But he still found his hand sliding down his stomach to grip himself, reaching full hardness in no time at all. He swiped the bead of precum down his length, moaning as pleasure streaked through his body. He didn't last more than a dozen pulls before his vision turned white and he peaked, her name on his lips.

Heart racing, he melted into the bed, shame coloring his cheeks, but the ache sated for now. He hadn’t cum that fast since he was a teen.

Well. Fuck.

 

***********************************

 

Damn it all! Rey shoved against the door, the wood jammed again. Finally, it gave in and she stumbled into her flat. She kicked the door shut behind her and shuffled, sweaty and exhausted, into the tiny kitchenette. Hunger usurped the need to shower. 

Another crap day. Her pitiful excuse for an AC unit went out last night, Plutt forgot to order several customers’ parts, she lost her favorite torque wrench, and then that bloody Solo. He drove a classic 1967 Falcon and had practically destroyed it. No doubt a fancy dancy rich kid who thought he looked cool, but knew fuck-all about how to treat a car. 

He had snapped at her and she saw red. Being a young mechanic was bad enough, tack on her gender and men immediately tuned her out. She hated it, but it wasn't unusual anymore. 

But then he'd thanked her. And given her a bloody nice tip. Plutt looked like he had sucked on a lemon as he passed her the money. She'd stared at it dumbly. Nobody gave her a tip. Ever.

She scowled and dug into her microwave mac and cheese. 

Men were confusing. Ben Solo one of the most. He looked every bit the intellectual type. With thick black glasses, mussed “I don't care, but I do” shaggy black hair, pouting lips, and big puppy dog eyes that sharpened when he got angry. 

She tossed the empty container in the trash and stripped on her way to the shower. Under the refreshing stream, her thoughts drifted back to him. Sitting in the waiting room, hunched over, he looked every bit the nerdy type. But then he had stood up and, damn it all, she had never wanted to climb a man like a tree before, but the man was built and she was game. Broad shoulders and biceps a girl could lose herself inside, his dress shirt clung to his chest and tapered slightly to his wide waist, legs going for miles, ending in shined shoes that made her wonder if the age old cliche was true. 

“Idiot,” she groaned and scrubbed the shampoo harshly into her hair, cleaning out the grease and sweat. She was just a mechanic monkey, a scavenger, as Plutt reminded her every chance he got. She was a nobody. 

Yet...the way Solo had watched at her, his deep voice following her, the look in his eye…

Biting her lip, she trailed her hand down her body, soaping and squeezing her breast with the other. She was already wet, had been since the moment she saw Ben Solo, and slipped two fingers inside, imagining they were someone else's.

Within minutes, she was gasping, teetering over the precipice, her knees trembling, his name on the tip of her tongue as she shuddered through her pleasure, coming harder than she ever had before. 

The water turned cold and she came back to herself with a gasp.

Mortified, she quickly rinsed off and stumbled out, whipping her towel around her as if a shield.

Oh...shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! My first Reylo (my first fanfic, as a matter of fact), so let me know what you think!


End file.
